The Grand Society of Waffles
by Plenipotentiaries
Summary: Angela McClaine's just a girl trying to overcome her past. Waffle Island's just another place trying to ensure it has a future. Will Angela be able to assist the slowly dying town, maintain her farm, and repair her badly damaged personal life? HM: TOT
1. Let's Go!

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.

Anatole France

--

Half of her hoped the boat sank.

It was quite early to be standing at a dock, of all the places. 5:30 am, to be precise. The place was nearly empty, with the exception of the workers loading cargo on ships and two women who looked out of place. The older one, an overweight middle-aged lady, looked tired and worn, as if fate itself spent its days raining blows on her back. She clutched her overpriced bag to her chest and stared out at the ocean. Although it was calm, she got no comfort from that fact. They had been here for an hour and the wait was getting the best of her. She had to be a work in another couple of hours, this boat was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. She turned to her daughter . . . who had gone missing. It was frustrating, but the eighteen-year old had done things much worse than leave her mother standing around.

Not ten feet away, said daughter was "chatting" with one of the younger dock workers. Okay, so her shirt was somewhere on the ground, and she might have given the guy (Edward? Jim? Did she honestly care what the guys name was?) a massive hickey during the course of the conversation, but you were only young once, right? This seemed as good a send-off as any, considering her mother hadn't mentioned the fact that she was leaving at all last night. Her dad had called though. That made her smile; she loved her dad _and _his wife's socks off. Shame he couldn't make it here today.

The young man, Lee, pulled her closer. His back was to the fading gray wall, paint peelings were stuck his skin. He was a decent kisser, breath a little tart, but she took what she could get. She'd certainly had better. It was all going fine, until he decided he wanted to _actually_ talk. "Can I get your phone number?" he whispered.

What? That was not going to work. She smirked. "Daddy doesn't really like boys calling my phone." She looked at the ground and twirled a lock of her chestnut brown hair, effectively making herself look younger. Exactly what she was trying to accomplish. With her petite frame, five foot two and a _half_ height, and her wide amber eyes, she naturally looked childish. It was easy to use to her advantage, and she always pressed her advantages.

He took a couple of steps back, gaping at her in disbelief. "How old _are _you, anyway?"

"I'm sixteen. And a half. Why?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously. If he wanted to get violent, she was prepared. The life that she had lived up to until now, the one she was leaving behind, had taught her that. She slipped her hand in her back pocket, gripped her switchblade lightly. Her dad had given it to her, just in case she got into a situation like this. More accurately, he gave it to her because he _knew_ she would. Her phone started ringing to the tune of "Crazy", defusing the tense vibe a bit. The teen sighed heavily and answered.

"Mother.", she stated blankly.

"_Where are you?"_

"I went the bathroom. Can I not go to the bathroom now?" The girl started tapping her left foot on the ground. Talking to her mother was always tense.

"_Did I say you couldn't . . . never mind. When did you say the boat was supposed to get here? You know I work today."_

Like she would let her forget it. "It was supposed to be here at five, I told you that. I'm not the one holding it up. If you really need to leave, you can just go ahead. I'll be fine." She had started flicking the switchblade back and forth. Lee wisely took that as his cue to grab his shirt and leave. She hadn't even bothered to put hers back on, and she felt the chill. It may have been March, but winter hadn't quite released its grip on the weather.

"_I want to make sure you get on that boat, dear. I know you. If there's trouble to be found out here, you'll walk right into it. I'm still not sure why I'm letting you go . . . Wait, hold on a second."_

"Okay."

_Good, I'm glad she stopped before she got on a roll. And my classmates wondered why I like Dad better. _

Her mind drifted off to her old school. Technically, she was supposed to still be in school. They let her have her diploma early so she could leave during the spring. After all, it just wouldn't do to be starting a farm during summer. She still could barely believe she was starting her own farm, of all the crazy things in the world. Her uncle had just retired a few months ago, and received a brochure for an amazing opportunity to own some free land on an island. He fell in love with the place, made the necessary calls, and made plans to relocate. Unfortunately, a heart attack left him unable to do so. He decided that he would just give the land to his niece as a present instead. It took some doing to convince his sister Pamela but eventually they both decided it would be good for her to get away from the "bad influences" in her life.

" _Angela, the boat is here. Just hurry up and come back, okay?"_

"Of course." She put her green shirt back on and made her way back to the dock. She walked slowly, trying to savor the last moments before she moved to no-man's land. She figured that most of the people in Waffle Town were old and married, from what her uncle told her about the place. It would be terribly boring while she got the farm rolling, but she guessed it was as good a place as any to start over. It would have been nice to have someone here besides her mother to see her off. But she hadn't told anyone besides her family she was leaving, and she didn't really have anyone in her life right now she would consider a friend.

When she arrived, her mother was helping someone put her bags on the ship. The man was old, but jolly-looking and she assumed he was the captain. Looking closely at them, she could tell her mother was still pissed at the man's tardiness. They all finished moving the bag in silence. Fifteen minutes later, they had finished and it was time for Angela to leave. Her heart began to beat faster. _What if I can't do this? Screw that, I've done harder things than move away. I'll be alright. _

She turned to her mother and gave her a tight, lengthy hug. Even though the two of them worried each other to death, they still loved each other. They were family. Angela listened as her mother ran off her laundry list of instructions. Some things never changed. " And make sure your dress for the weather. Go to bed on time. Don't get into any arguments with anyone that . . . Are you even listening, Angela?"

She chuckled. "Mom, when do I ever listen to what's good for me?"

Pamela frowned. "You're right, I'm just wasting my breath. But you'd better listen to this." She lowered her voice, but her tone was much harsher. "_If it doesn't belong to you, don't touch it." _She turned to the captain of the ship. _"And you make sure she gets to Pancake Island safely."_ She gave Angela one last hug, walked to her car, and drove off.

_That's my mom for ya._

--

She had been on the boat (which looked more like a dingy than anything else) for hours now, and Pascal had not stopped talking once. Admittedly, he did have an interesting life story, what with the divorcing his wife for the sea and all. But he just would not stop asking her questions. He reminded her of a patient at a nursing home. He continued, "So, Miss Angela. Why are you going to Waffle Island anyway?"

_Because if I stay in New York I'll end up violating my probation. Because my dad just had a baby with my step-mom and I'm sick of staying with my mother. Because I won't let my uncle down, he's the only one left that doesn't think I'm full of crap._

"Well, I've always liked growing things. And hey, Waffle Town sounds like a nice place to live." _For retirees._

Suddenly, the wind picked up and the sky turned dark. Pascal smiled, for some odd reason. It was creeping Angela out. He had a gleam in his eye that seemed rather familiar to her for some reason. Maybe it was the old sailor genes coming out or something.

_Maybe this was a bad idea. This crazy old man might sail us into the storm and kill us both. Why couldn't I just gotten on a pl_

Angela had been knocked unconscious by one of Pascal's fishing trophies.

--

**A/N - I don't own Harvest Moon: Tree of Tranquility. I'm going to try to update Monday and Fridays. Thanks for reading (and hopefully reviewing)!**

**DP702**


	2. Waking Up In Waffle

When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.

Clifton Fadiman

--

"Mmmm, I love Grandma's biscuits. They're sooo fluffy."

Angela slowly opened her eyes to the sound of munching and crunching. She had just had the strangest dream. A tall woman with sea-foam colored hair was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't talk. The woman looked sad and desperate, but she also looked like royalty. For some reason, both Angela and the lady (for she looked like the Lady of the Lake if there ever was one) were crying. Whatever it was, Angela didn't really want to think about it. The woman had wings, she was probably an angel. Angels were always sending people on epic, life-threatening quests, and Angela neither wanted nor had time for one of those. Let the lady find one of those noble people in the world, they would jump at this sort of thing. Rubbing her eyes, she chalked the dream up to a bad acid trip or eating Chinese food too late at night or something.

She looked over and saw a strawberry blond pig-tailed girl sitting in the chair beside her bed. More importantly, she noticed the huge tray of food in the girl's lap. There was every type of breakfast treat you could imagine: pancakes, an omelet, bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and fresh fruit. There was even a huge glass of orange juice to top it off. Angela's stomach started rumbling loudly - now that she thought about she couldn't even remember the last meal she'd eaten. That was bad, wasn't it?

The girl grinned at Angela and offered her an apple. "Hey, you're up! Mom and Dad and Grandma will be glad to see that. Should I call Dr. Jin? I think I should call him and the mayor, this is big news. You'll be like a celebrity or something! By the way, my name's Maya, and welcome to the Sundae Inn! My mom and dad own this place and my grandma Yolanda's the head chef here. Well, she's really the only chef here, but she's the best! Oh, and this is your breakfast, so I'm sorry ate off of it. But I just can't resist a good meal! " Maya finished and finally took a breath.

Normally, Angela would have hit the girl just to shut her up, but she was so dizzy and hungry that all she could do was lift an eyebrow and devour the apple. She took the rest of the food that the bubbly girl offered and bit off of the pancake. It was . . . It was . . . The best pancake she had ever had! This pancake put all of her mother's cooking to shame, and she wasn't even that bad of a cook. She guessed Yolanda really _was_ the best.

As she dug into the hearty meal, something occurred to her. Did Maya say she was going to call a doctor? Was something wrong? She tried to think to think of where she went and what she had done the last couple of days. Nothing. She tried again. Drew another blank. Angela shrugged. No point in worrying about it. One thing Angela prided herself on was her infamous cool. She was convinced she could take care of herself no matter how dire the situation. Even when she got busted, she didn't cry about it . . . But this wasn't this time to think about that, she had to figure out why she couldn't remember what she did yesterday. Maybe she had amnesia, but she really didn't think so. She did remember that dream.

_Is this a prank or something? Let's see, the last thing I remember. Well, I got my diploma. I made out with a random guy. I got . . . Oh yeah; I was on my way to Waffle Island. Wonder if I ever made it there?_

Angela spotted her luggage in the corner. That was a relief. She took a hot shower, grabbed her green button-down shirt and a pair of denim shorts, and got dressed. Looking in the mirror, she noticed a huge bruise in the middle of her forehead. She didn't remember getting in a fight with anyone. Maybe she got beat up. If that was the case, she sincerely hoped the other person was in a coma. Angela didn't like to lose. She didn't bother putting makeup on the bruise. If anything, the bruise made her look more sympathetic. She smirked at the thought of just how much she could get over on people. She attempted to get the cowlick out of her chestnut hair, to no avail. The rogue piece of hair had been the girl's constant companion since she was a child. It annoyed her to no end, but she just wouldn't cut it off. When people asked why, she insisted her reasons weren't any of their business.

She gathered her bags and went downstairs. There was quite a reception waiting for her. Maya was standing by two nice looking adults, which Angela assumed were her parents. An older woman with pink hair (Pink hair? Was she still dreaming? Or high?) was holding a spatula. She guessed that was Yolanda, the woman that made her taste buds sing and dance. Angela gave her a small smile. A really young looking man in a white lab coat was checking his notes. Finally, an older man wearing a powder blue suit, which looked like it belonged in a completely different era, spoke up. "Hello, Miss Angela, and welcome to Waffle Island! Your uncle informed me that you would be arriving in his stead. Now if you would sit down and let Dr. Jin examine you, we can get started with you filling out the paperwork. I'll be waiting for you outside." With that he left.

_Paperwork?_

The rest of the crowd warmly welcomed her and then dispersed. Although they went about their business, all their eyes and attention were on the newcomer. Waffle Town rarely got any visitors, let alone someone moving in. The new girl's motives were a mystery.

The doctor asked her so many questions she nearly lost track. While he was questioning her, she gave him a good once-over. He had some of the most gorgeous hair she had ever seen on a person. She knew people who would put a body in a trunk for half of that quality of hair. Heck, she knew people that would put a body in a trunk for a lot less. Although he was handsome and more than a little pretty, she would avoid toying with him. She was determined to start fresh; no matter how much fun she would miss out on having. Angela McClaine was now a good girl. Or at _least_ a bad girl in remission.

She did have one question for him, though. "Would you please explain to me why everyone is staring at me like they don't have anything else to do!"

Jin just smiled softly. He explained, "You do realize you're the first new resident we've had in about ten years? It's only natural that they'd be curious."

Angela let it go after that. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know why no one else was coming here. At this point, her old best friend would have come of with all sorts of conspiracies . . .

**They're aliens!**

**They do human sacrifices!**

**IT'S A CULT!!!**

All of which would have been both incredibly ridiculous and extremely hilarious. But the girl was a complete traitor. End of story.

The doctor finished up and sent Angela on her way with a stern warning not to overextend herself. She thanked him (although she didn't necessarily appreciate being fussed at), gathered her bags and headed for the door. As she turned to leave, she found her self being . . . Hugged?

"I'm so glad you're staying! Dad said you could come work here part-time for a little extra gold if you wanted. Isn't that cool!", Maya said, giggling.

"That's . . . great, Maya. I'll come back and see you soon. But . . . Please stop hugging me. I can't really breathe"

_This is going to be a really interesting year. And by interesting, I mean crazy._

--

**A/N - I'm sorry I'm off my schedule (and that the chapters have been so short). I'm job-hunting and it's throwing me off. Hopefully once I have get one, I'll be more consistent. Also, although Angela is the main character and the story will be pretty much focused on her, I will switch perspective from time to time, to give you a better picture of the goings-on of the town. Thanks for reading! **

**DP702**


	3. Down The Rabbit Hole She Goes

_Respect a man, he will do the more. _

**James Howell**

Angela knew two things for certain. One was that she would definitely be coming back tothe Waffle Inn. That food had taken ahold of her taste buds and wouldn't let go foranything. That Yolanda lady was something else in the kitchen. Did all women cook thiswell in Waffle Town? Was this one of the "womanly arts" that she was expected to master? Seriously though, what _was _this place? She hadn't seen enough of the town to be sure, but it seemed like she might have entered a time machine and gone back to the 1900's. Or maybe this really _was _a cult.

The second thing she knew was that the brochure was a big fat lie. Waffle Town did not look like "heaven on Earth" _or _" a cosmopolitan mecca that is rapidly growing into a cultural powerhouse". 'What kind of cultural powerhouse" only had three businesses open? And if this place was cosmopolitan, Angela was a Victoria's Secret model, and she wasn't even almost busty enough for that. She glanced at Mayor Hamilton, who had just finished giving her the "grand tour". He was obviously proud of the place. She had been to the general store, the clinic, and "On the Hook" a store that sold . . . fish. Not bait, just . . . fish. She guessed it would help if she didn't feel like cooking, but it still struck her as being a bit strange. What was stranger was the way all of the people had looked at her.

_They look like they expect me to . . . I don't really know. I just don't like it._

Hamilton had been droning on and on about something or other. Angela would be glad when she could go on about her business without someone breathing down her neck, it made her anxious.

"Did you hear me Angela?"

_No, no I didn't._

She smiled warmly at the Mayor. "Yes, I heard you." She really needed to stop lying about these sorts of things. But she would do anything to shut this guy up. He nodded at her, smiling.

"Alright, you're almost done for the day! Just go past the square to the Town Hall, and go see Elli. She'll have the rest of the paperwork you need to fill out for your land. Hmm, I seem to be forgetting something . . . Oh well, it's probably not that important." He shrugged.

_And this is the Mayor of Waffle Town, people. Give him a hand._

She made her way into the hall. It was small; she would have been disappointed, but she would have had to have been surprised first. The girl at the desk was Elli, she supposed. Her hair was pretty awesome. Those highlights could not be natural, but did these people believe in hair dye? Who knew?

"Hey, are you Elli?"

The woman nodded. She was wearing a farmer's wife dress, very quaint. What she wouldn't give to see a pair of jeans around here. "You must be Angela! Have a seat and we'll get you started!" She seemed so excited about it.

"What do you do all day around here?"

Elli giggled. "We mostly file papers. It's not very lively around here, most days. But the festivals are a different story, those two never agree on anything. Hey, you could come help out, if you'd like."

Angela had gotten part-time job offers from everywhere she had been today. Good, she could build up some cash.

Angela sat down at the desk and filled out one paper. And another. And several more, until she had been there for two hours doing paperwork. She hated this office, the Mayor, and this stupid

"Elli, are ya here?"

A blonde girl stepped in the hall. She looked like a cowgirl, which was refreshing. The whole "Little House on the Prairie" look was getting tired. Her voice was loud, and she seemed like the type that knew how to get in to the fun kind of trouble.

Angela sure as hell hoped someone around here did.

"I'm right here Kathy. And this is Angela, our newest resident."

"Someone new moved in? Dad'll flip when he hears this!"

Angela frowned at them. "I'm right here you know!" She held out her hand for Kathy to shake. Kathy shook it, and her grip _hurt. _Was this chick a body-builder, or what?

"Elli, could you make an announcement? The bar will be closed for a while." Kathy frowned. "We don't really have the money to buy supplies right now. But Angela, you should come by once we get back on our feet. And trust me, we will."

Angela smiled. She had respect for survivors. Wait, there was a bar here? That was great, but she wasn't legal. And unlike at home, she had no way to get free booze.

"Kathy, what's the legal age to start drinking around here?"

Kathy grinned as she walked out of the building. "Whenever you're old enough!"

_This place might not be half bad, then._

Angela spent another hour filling out paperwork. Finally she finished, and she was looking forward to going to her house. She _had _a house now. "Bye Elli!"

She waved at Elli, and walked out to the square. She looked at the flowers, they were beautiful. Tulips and hyacinths.

It had been long time since Angela could just sit back and enjoy nature. Too long. And she would enjoyed it longer, had it not been for a preppy looking blond interrupting her.

"So, you're the "Savior of Waffle Town", right? I read your records, father must be desperate." He sighed.

"Who the _fuck _are you?"

Angela's hand was twitching. Her switchblade was in her pocket, and all she wanted to do was get this guy's smug look of his face. But she'd _changed_, was trying to change, and she could not be that girl anymore. But this asshole was pushing it.

"Such language. But I didn't mean to insult you, I just love this island. I want to turn this place back to the way it was. You can help me, or you can leave."

This guy was a _prick._ But he spoke with passion, and it didn't hurt that he looked like some kind of angel. Great.

"Oh yes. Father told me to tell you your house wouldn't be ready for two more days. That's quite unfortunate." He turned to walk away.

"Father?"

He smirked, rather coldly "Yes, Mayor Hamilton is my father. My name is Gill. Enjoy your extended stay at the inn."

_This guy cannot be serious._


End file.
